


Tip

by yoolee



Category: Lovestruck - Fandom, Starship Promise (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 14:03:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13637760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoolee/pseuds/yoolee
Summary: The crew enjoys a night off, Atlas remembers an old skill.





	Tip

**Author's Note:**

> 100% self indulgent and not edited, sorry!

He loved the Promise.

He knew every metal panel, every vent, every temperamental circuit and dusty corner by heart.  _Heart_ being the operative word, despite staunch self-insistence that the one in his chest was cold as the press of space to her hull. But have one he did, and even he wasn’t hard enough to deny it was in as good a place as it could be these days, watching them all aboard his bird. 

Happy. 

The crew of the Promise was relaxed in the lounge’s rickety, comfy chairs, voices low and warm and easy as music crackled over the comms in a pleasant buzz. Their newest recruit had done that; found some way to boost the nearest colony’s signals, insisted on it for the night. She was hard to say no to, though he endeavored to do so on principle, though it hadn’t escaped his notice he was doing so less and less. 

As was happening more often than he liked to admit these days, his eyes followed his thoughts to her.

She was smiling.

He sighed.

 

* * *

She leaned forward in her chair, expression bright and surprised as she sipped something lavender Atlas had figured she’d like. Nova’s glass held only water. Orion’s matched his own, though he sipped the whiskey inside a shade more slowly. Jaxon’s beer splashed as he gesticulated wildly, clearly enjoying his audience’s attention as he relayed the tale—yet again—of collecting a bounty right in the middle of the target;s wedding. Atlas would roll his eyes if he thought it would register, but…well, they were enjoying themselves.

_She_ was enjoying herself. 

She leaned forward, rapt, “You  _didn’t_! How could you? In the middle of their first dance?”

“He was awful. I couldn’t let his poor bride suffer another steppedon foot – I’m a gentleman.”

Atlas snorted into his sip of whiskey. ”Is that what we’re callin’ you now?” Orion caught the sound and gave him a matching smirk.

Jaxon ignored them both. She shook her head, and Atlas imagined Jaxon was nothing short of pleased with the low hum of fascination in her voice. “How did you even get in?”

Jaxon grinned, cocksure and pleased with himself, leaning back to throw an arm around the back of his chair, with a wink tossed over his mug. “Came in with the band.”

“They just… let you in?”

“Well I had a synth case, no one actually checked inside.”

Nova shook her head in disapproval.

His engineer–the ship’s, he meant–looked shocked for a moment, but then the surprise filtered into something else, that intent, curious tilt of her head and the distance in her gaze telltale. He didn’t know how to feel about the fact he  _knew s_ he was calculating something, figuring it out in that quickfire mind of hers, just from the shift in her features. Sure enough, her mouth began to move, murmuring her silent, swift thoughts as she lost herself in them for a moment.  He took another sip and stood, losing the thread of conversation as he went behind the bar to absentmindedly refill his glass. “Cap?”

“I’m good,” Orion grinned, lifting his glass. “Savoring it.”

“Suit yourself.” Atlas shrugged, tuning back in.

“Dance and combat have a long history,” Nova was offering. “Not just among humans—there are certain animal species that dance before or as part of a bout. Though just as many or more use it as a courtship ritual.”

Orion smiled, “I guess even animals know there’s a fine line between love and hate." 

Jaxon grinned, "You mean between fighting and fuc–oof! Aww, c’mon…” With wounded betrayal, he rubbed the back of his head, gently smacked by Orion’s hand in warning. The scientist next to him tried–and failed, as usual–to hide her smile.

The static-y, fizzling music in the lounge switched to something old and familiar. It took Atlas a moment to place it, but when the low-toned crooner’s mellow voice flowed through, he set his glass down.  _Been a long time since I heard this one._ Not since…something tired settled in his shoulders, but it tasted nostalgic on his tongue. Lost but not gone.

Jaxon threw his hands up in the air, circling back to his point. “Courtship rituals!”

Nova looked skeptical, but there was humor in her eyes. “Is it not so for humans as well?”

“Well sure, but what it  _is_ ,” Jaxon insisted, with magnanimous patience, “ _Really_ is. Is fun. Good, old fashioned fun.” Their engineer snorted, snickering into her mostly empty glass. Jaxon’s attention went to her, smile friendly, “See? She gets it.” He was leaning forward suddenly Atlas was standing, feet moving smoothly as Jaxon winked at her, words light and bright, “Here, let me—” His hand extended, and hers echoed the movement, “Show…ah?”

His own hand had beaten Jaxon’s, catching their engineer’s and tugging her smoothly to her feet in a fluid motion that had several pairs of eyes blinking in surprise. She gaped at him openly, and he frowned in return, even as he placed a gentle hand on her hip. There was a cough from someone. Orion, Atlas figured. Nova was silent, head tilted and expression calm. Jaxon just started chuckling without restraint. Her hand in his was warm, and she squeezed as though to confirm its location to herself. Atlas just smiled at the strength of her squeeze. “Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled, wiping the smile off. Pulling her into old steps his feet remembered even if his head had tried to bury them long ago felt as easy as figuring her mood from a glance. He’d always liked her hands, dusted with oil, nimble and clever, even when they were yanking wires out of his ship. Though he supposed she… _mostly_  put them back where she got them from, at least.

“Atlas?”

He made a noncommittal sound, the closest to an acknowledgment he intended to give her. Otherwise she might ask question, and he wasn’t in the mood to explain.   
  


He wanted…he just  _wanted_. 

It was uncomfortable, tight in his chest, and so he shoved it down. Nothing to see, nothing to ask about. Nothing but a beat of music, familiar in his ears, and a hand in his that felt long-forgotten. Her other hand rested below his shoulder, curious fingers brushing the fabric of his coat. She inhaled, and he watched her expression and wondered what she saw.

The crooning lilt of an old, old, crackling love song guided his feet, informing hers to follow. One- _two_ -three. One- _two_ -three. How long ago had he been taught this? He watched her eyes light up, as the surprise finally gave way to delight. She relaxed in his hold, as easily as breathing, and he tried not to think about how freely she gave her trust. How willingly. His palm slid from her hip to her lower back, guiding the shift in her balance as he lifted their joined hands. Simple enjoyment lit her eyes as she twirled under them, too fast to match the music, but hey, if it made her happy.

He realized he was smiling again when Jaxon’s wolf whistle soared over the swell of brassy beats and a low voice. Light applause came from Nova and Orion. Atlas rolled his eyes and willfully silenced the voice in his head that noted how comfortably she felt in his arms as the music slowed, all at once too soon and not soon enough. His throat ached for the sip of something strong, heady and familiar.  _It’s nothing._  “Try that again, kid, at a speed less than FTL.” He offered.

“The twirly twisty spin thing?”

“The what now?” He gave her a flat look.  She laughed nervously, pink coloring her cheeks with an endearing flush.  _Aw, hell._ He glanced to the side, a quick dart of gaze to get away from hers. “Yeah. Sure. That.” She spun to her left, and he pulled their joined hands and, well, she was bright kid. She figured it out, and relaxed her weight into the dip as he tipped her towards the floor.

“Oh…” She breathed the word more than said it, and he watched her lips form its shape, the breathlessness making his own lungs tighten. What was the next step? He couldn’t hear the music; the slow spread of her smile, all sweetness, all at  _him_ , was deafening.

Comet’s ears wiggled in his peripheral vision, as its head tilted to match her angle, clearly puzzled by the display. He took a sharp breath.  _Right_. “Guess Comet’s kind doesn’t dance.” He pulled her upright, and the last note faded.  _Let her go_. Her eyes were wide, lips parted.  _Go get your drink._ Stars knew his throat was parched. His hands were warm. They slipped from hers and felt too hot.

“What? No worries, I’ll show ya, little buddy.” Jaxon scooped up Comet and started something vaguely recognizable as a polka. Comet immediately began squirming, swatting its green paws at the bounty hunter’s shoulders. He relented, and Comet scrambled up to his shoulders, drumming its paws to the beat of the music. “Guess you just like to do it your own way, huh?”

Atlas’s feet had stopped. Her cheeks were still pink, delight practically an audible hum around her shoulders. He stepped back, picked up his glass and took a long swallow. His cheeks weren’t pink. They sure as hell weren’t. Anyone who said otherwise could take a trip out the airlock. The next song picked up, something oddly forlorn over a rapidfire beat.

Nova unfolded herself in a single movement, extending her hand to the still-smiling former stowaway. “I believe I’ve absorbed the mechanics. May I have the next one?”

She spun, grinning a little too intently as she gripped Nova’s hand and Atlas took a long swallow from his glass, willing the burn of its contents to do its job quickly.

Orion patted Atlas’s shoulder. “Didn’t know you had that in you, twinkletoes.”

Atlas considered glaring at him, and then decided to just that, because he had a reputation, thanks. He kept his voice flat and dry, “I am a man of unparalleled and mysterious depths.”

Orion opened his mouth to offer a comment on that when a startled squawk distracted them both.

Nova demurred, brows furrowed in apology, “Apologies, was that too fast?”

Dazed, the blonde in her arms stuttered, “Ah—nope! All good here!”

All good. Atlas just shook his head and kicked his feet up onto the bar. He let his eyes take it all in. Nova and her flustered dance partner. Jaxon and his now considerably less distressed one, Orion and his proud half-smile.

All on his ship.

All in his home.

He tipped his glass in a silent toast.

He really did love his ship.


End file.
